


Little Bits 3

by genee



Category: Actor RPF, Music RPF
Genre: Clone Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-29
Updated: 2006-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genee/pseuds/genee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few v short stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Bits 3

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aquamia](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=aquamia), [without_me](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=without_me).



> Written by request. :)

for without_me: chris/chris, leather  
   
He smells like smoke and leather and gasoline, and he looks like you, exactly like you, he has your voice, your hands, your laugh. He breathes like you, fucks like you, comes like you, his fingers twisted in your hair, his dick rubbing hard against your belly. He is you, somehow, except he isn't, he isn't you at all. He's got an old Harley parked in the alley and a myth tattooed across his back, a jagged scar carved along the inside of his thigh that's cool and smooth and tastes like tarnished silver, like river water running on your tongue.  
   
   
   
for wendy: jared/jensen, ring  
   
"Fuck," Jared moans when Jensen looks up, hot flash of metal against the pink of his lips, against the blood-dark heat of Jared's dick. Jensen sucks the head back into his mouth and swirls his tongue, breathes in the scent of Jared right here, right now, all sweaty and wanting and before he knows it he's pressing Jared's thighs open wide and sucking at the sensitive skin behind his balls. "Fuck, fuck, Jen," Jared moans, and Jensen makes himself slow down, makes himself think about how good it's going to be when he finally gets there, his mouth pressed hard against Jared's hole, hot and wet, his tongue ring pressing all the way in.  
   
   
   
for aquamia: joe, tony, snow  
   
Sometimes it's like he blinks, another year gone by and so many miles between them, tour bus broken down in the mountains, sun shining pale and clear. Joe blinks again, and Tony's daughter holds up her mittened hands, smiles at him just like her daddy. Joe picks her up, and Libby giggles, rubs her cold nose against Joe's. "Come make snow angels with us," she says, and Joe agrees, wraps her scarf a little closer. Tony laughs, and Joe thinks about the ocean, about golden sand and skin-warm water. Tony laughs, and Joe laughs, too, reaches out to scratch the ice from Tony's beard.


End file.
